Sansa Stark: To Love Another
by Aira Howell
Summary: Sansa Stark has lived her entire life dreaming of finding love. She thought she would have to travel to the tales of old to find the man she dreamed of. It's only now she realising, that man might have been with the all along...
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Sansa Stark had always considered herself a proper lady. She always made sure that she looked her best, as well as making sure that she preformed her duties as the second oldest lady in the household. She always tried her best to make sure that her younger siblings behaved themselves and stayed out of trouble; Bran and Rickon did this just fine. Arya, her little sister, did not. She was the complete opposite of Sansa, not only in looks but also in character. Sansa had long auburn hair and bright blue eyes, just like her mother, who was born a Tully. Arya, on the other hand, had dark hair and equally dark eyes, just like their father, Ned Stark. The stark personality was very present in Arya too; she liked to fight and ride with the boys. Sansa was more like her mother. She was sweet and dainty, and very, very sensible. In fact, if not for her last name, nobody could have guessed that Sansa was a Stark.

As well as having two little brothers and a younger sister, Sansa also had two older brothers...well, one and a half. Her parents oldest child was Robb. He had a very Stark personality, but had the distinctive features of a Tully, much like Sansa (all be it not as prominent). In true manly fashion, Robb like to hunt with his father and brother, and practice his swordsmanship as often as he could. One thing that he prided himself on was his ability to fight. Robb was probably the sibling that Sansa was closest to. Granted, she did not spend heaps of time with him, or her other siblings for that matter, but he was always there for her when she needed him. He was always the first person she went to when she needed advice, or when she needed cheering up; he was defiantly a brother that she could always rely on.

Finally there was her older brother Jon Snow. From an early age, Sansa had always been told that Jon was not her mother's child, only her father's. He was a basterd. Even when she was small and could understand little of the world around her, Sansa could always sense the contempt that her mother held for Jon. Just like any other child, Sansa followed her mother's example and treated him as less than a sibling. Whereas the others treated him as just another Stark, she saw him as a brother that should keep his distance. As well as this, she referred to him as half-brother, maybe to show him what he will always be to her.

But as Sansa matured, so did her views on the world around her. While she still remained a proper lady and what not, she did notice that she had been treating Jon rather badly. He had been nothing but nice to her, and she had turned her nose up purely because of her mother's feelings towards him. Her other siblings had always disliked the way she treated Jon; she felt so awful she wanted to apologize. Unfortunately, she was so embarrassed by her actions she could muster up the courage to even do so, that she dealt with the problem the only way she could think of: by ignoring him. It had worked for the better part of two years, with her only speaking to him when absolutely necessary.

The last member of her family (if you can call him that) was Theon Greyjoy. He was a ward of her father's and Robb's best friend. He was a few years her senior, and had been around for as longs as she could remember, always there with the rest of them. She had never noticed him that much before, and she was sure that he had never noticed her, but as they all sat dining together a few weeks after her sixteenth name-day, she could have sworn that his eyes darted to her a little more often than they normally did.

"So Father, when will the king arrive?" Robb asked Ned, before beginning to eat his dinner. Ned sat for a moment, chewing on his food. After he swallowed he answer: "A few nights from now."

Robb gave a short nod to his father, and turned to talk to Jon who sat beside him. They had begun a rather lengthy discussion about what they should next teach Bran.

"More sword work?" suggested Jon, his palm coressing the stubble that had begun to grow on his chin.

Robb shook his head. "No. Something more challenging. How about the bow and arrow?"

Jon nodded in agreement, just as Arya's voice piped up from the other end of the table. "Can i take the lesson with you to?" she asked eagerly, almost bouncing in her seat. Sansa knew how much her sister wanted to wear boyish things and do boyish activities...she couldn't help but resent her a bit for that. Why couldn't she have a sister that wanted to play dress up and talk about boys?

"Of course not, Arya." Snapped their mother. "Women should learn how to sew, not how to fight. Isn't that right Ned?" Her husband mumbled a short and quiet response, not really wanting to get into this discussion with his wife.

Sansa watched the scene in front of her with a little jealousy. Robb and Jon's grins told her how much they wanted to train Arya. Though she was sure they would train her if she asked, she knew they would be nowhere near as excited, unlike they were with Arya. They would think that she would squeal every time she had to pick up something dirty.

Sansa let her eyes travel from her brothers to Theon. He was staring at her again, but the moment she caught him, he looked away. She pursued her lips and looked down at the table, blush rising to her cheeks. That defiantly wasn't the first time that she's caught him staring tonight.

"What's got you so flushed, little sister?" asked Robb in a teasing manner. She looked up, shocked and quickly tried to mumble a reply.

"Just thinking about Joffery and whether or not he'll like me..." she trailed off. It was not entirely a lie. She was conscious of what the future king would think of her, but that defiantly wasn't what had made her blush just moments before.

"He'd be a fool not to like you." Said Jon kindly, as Robb nodded his agreement.

"Thank you, Jon."

He smiled at her and continued on with his dinner. _Great,_ she thought, _another nice thing to compare to the horrid ones._ She sighed an inward sigh and continued on with dinner, hoping not to have to say another word. It was easier that way.

When dinner was finished, she and Theon were the last to leave. She had slowed her pace deliberately, wanting to be alone for just a moment, but Theon had mumbled something to Robb about meeting him later. He was now watching her intently, as she readied herself to leave the table.

"Sansa," he began, in a voice that voice that seemed to aged for his body, "I don't believe I've had the chance to tell you how beautiful you've gotten."

Heat rose to her cheeks once more, a reaction to his more than flattering words. "Thank you, Theon." If there was one thing she liked, it was compliments (and the occasional lemon cake).

"No need to thank me. I'm just speaking the truth."

With that, he rose from his chair, and exited the room. Before he left, however, he paused and turned, as if he wanted to say something more. But he obviously thought the better of it and left, without another word said.

Even after he left, Sansa couldn't seem to get the heat to leave her face. It was that small reaction to his words that helped her realise that maybe, just maybe, she had crush, on Theon Greyjoy.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Sansa found herself waking up earlier than she normally would. The sun had only just peeked over the horizon when she opened her eyes. She groaned and rolled over, so that she couldn't see a single ray of sunlight. She tried, in vain, to get back to sleep for a few more minutes, but in the end gave in and decided to just get up. She dressed quickly and wondered downstairs, in the hopes of getting some food before the normal set breakfast time.

When she wondered out of her room, she found the large castle in which she lived to be almost silent. This was strange; she was so used to see the halls bustling and full of life that it seemed odd for it to be any different. She could faintly hear shouts and laughter from outside, but guessed that was just some of the morning guards.

As she walked through the large empty stone corridors, Sansa thought about the previous night. Part of her still couldn't believe that Theon had called her beautiful. It seemed so unreal. Had of her night had been spent wondering how he would act today. Would he be indifferent? Or would he be nervous, like her?

_Of course not. _Sansa thought bitterly. _He's handsome, young, privileged and had ladies falling all over him. Why would he be flustered over her?_

Sansa knew very well about all of the night times trips Theon made to be with beautiful young women. Robb often scolded him for it, saying it wasn't proper, or honourable. Of course it wasn't, but when it came to whores, Theon didn't care to much about honour. He just made sure to clean up his mess after he was done.

After Sansa had visited the kitchen and got a few slices of bread, she decided to go for a stroll outside and till everyone else woke up. She pulled her cloak closer around her body, so to shield herself against the cold northern air, and then set off on her track around the castle. Sansa could she nobody as she made her way around the castle, but the laughing she had heard in the corridors was slowly becoming louder and louder. Curiosity got the better of her, and she decided to change her route so that she was now heading towards the source of the commotion.

After a few more paces, Sansa soon realised that the noise was coming from the training area, where the boys learnt new battle skills and practiced their swordsmanship. Sansa tiptoed towards the area, careful to make no noise, and peered round an edge of castle that was jutting out. She saw Robb, Jon and Theon, laughing and swinging swords at each other. They had obviously woken up early to practice before their actual lessons that day.

"Come on Robb," said Jon, as Robb took a shot at him and missed. "You can do better than that."

Robb let out a hearty laugh and tried again. He was successful this time, and Jon had to quickly block his swing to avoid any damage.

"Now gents, we can't just keep on swinging and blocking," said Theon. "We need to do a variety of swings -like this!" he then smacked Robb on the back of the legs with his sword. Theon and Jon almost fell over laughing. Sansa herself couldn't help but giggle a little bit at his actions. She then decided it was probably best to leave before they noticed she was here. Lord knows, she didn't to talk to Theon after last night. She knew she'd only embarrass herself is she did.

Sansa turned so that she could make her way back up to the castle, bust as she did so, she slipped on a patch of ice. As she fell, she let out a loud cry, before landing hard on the ground.

"What was that?" asked Robb and Sansa heard the stomp of footsteps. She then looked up from her spot on the icy floor to see three men standing over her, each with a very confused expression. She did notice that Theon also looked slightly amused, which made her feel even more mortified.

"Sansa?"said Jon in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. She was too embarrassed to even speak. When she didn't answer he tried again: "Would you like a hand?"

She nodded and took the hand that he had extended out to her and he pulled her up easily from the ground.

"Now," began Robb, looking down at his sister with a raised eyebrow. "Are you going to tell us why you were hiding behind this wall?"

"I was not hiding!" said Sansa, suddenly finding her voice.

"Sure you weren't."

"Robb Stark why would I hide behind a wall and spy on you?"

Robb grinned. He loved winding up his sister. "Fine. What were you doing out here then?"

"I couldn't get back to sleep so decided to go for a walk. I heard you laughing and wondered who else was up this early."

"You know, you could have just joined us Sansa." said Theon. Sansa tore her eyes away from Robb as he spoke. She had been trying to avoid acknowledging he was here.

"No she couldn't." Robb snapped at his best friend. "Sword fighting is not for ladies. It's dangerous and she could get hurt."

"Relax. It's not like one of us would hurt her, is it?" said Theon with an eye roll.

"Accidents happen. Besides, Sansa doesn't even like sword fighting." Said Robb in a form voice.

Sansa narrowed her eyes at her brother. Maybe she was a tomboy like Arya, but that didn't mean that people should just assume things about her. "I wouldn't know, I've never tried."

"You could have a try now?" suggested Jon, coming into the conversation for the first time. He looked like he genuinely meant what he was saying. It made her feel another pang of guilt. Another nice thing, when she had been nothing but horrid.

"Jon, I said no!" Robb said, his voice raising at his brother. Jon stood his ground, however, and wouldn't back down.

"She's not going to get hurt. If anything learning how to fight will help her in the future."

"Ladies don't fight." said Robb, dismissively. "Besides, she's just a little girl."

That caused Sansa's blood to boil. Just a little girl? That obviously summed up exactly what Robb thought of her. _I bet he doesn't think that about Arya. _

Sansa just gave her brother a stare was icy as the wind, and turned on her heal to march back to the castle, leaving the other three staring after her. From past experience the silent treatment worked best on Robb, so that was exactly what she was going to do.

_Just a little girl _she thought, _I'll show him. _


	3. Chapter 3

Sansa knew that people saw her as quite a girly girl. After all, she made sure that she always acted proper, and behaved. But she didn't know that that made people think she was weak and in capable of doing a simple task. She didn't know people saw her as a _**little girl.**_ It made her feel silly and foolish. A part of her couldn't help but think that they wouldn't call Arya a little girl. She could handle herself, despite the fact that Sansa was a few years her senior. Obviously her lady-like air, made people think that she was completely incapable of even holding a sword.

Another thing that made her completely mortified, was that Robb had called her a little girl in front of Theon. She knew very well that he probably saw her as nothing more than a little sister, but she defiantly hoped he didn't she her as a little girl that was completely helpless. Sure, she had dreams of castles and knights saving ladies, but that didn't mean she couldn't look after herself.

By the time she reached the castle, almost everyone was up. She could see staff bustling around the corridors, and could hear people laughing and making conversation as they worked. Too annoyed at Robb and too mortified by what he said, Sansa decided that she would skip breakfast that morning. She knew she would get in trouble, but she would just tell her parents that she was ill. Before she could start to make her way towards her chambers, Sansa heard someone calling her name behind her. She turned to see Jon running down the corridor in an effort to reach her.

"Sansa," he said as he reached her. "Are you okay?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" she said trying not to make it obvious how angry she was. Jon wasn't who she was mad at after all.

"I know you're not okay. What Robb said wasn't very nice."

Sansa nodded, narrowing her eyes at her half-brother. She was suspicious as to why he was being so nice to her. Or why he'd even cared about how she felt.

"I'm fine. It was silly idea after all. I shouldn't even consider holding a sword." She almost sounded robotic as she spoke, a dead give-away for Jon that she was defiantly far from okay.

"Sansa there's nothing silly in wanting to be able to defend yourself," he hesitated for a moment. "I could teach you if you like."

Sansa's mouth opened in shock. Had Jon really just offered to teach her to fight?

"Why would you do that?" she couldn't help but ask.

Jon shrugged his shoulders. "Because you shouldn't be prevented from doing what you want just because Robb said no."

"But...but I've always been horrid to you. Why would you help me?"

Now it was Jon's turn to look shocked. "Sansa, you're my sister. It doesn't matter how horrid you've been to me, you're my sister. If you need help, I'll give it to you."

At his word Sansa felt a lump rise in her throat. He really was the nicest person. He had never deserved anything she said or did to the first time in her life, Sansa felt proud to say that Jon Snow was her brother.

"Thank you Jon. That's so sweet of you to say." She hesitated a moment before her next sentence. "I would love for you to teach me how to use a sword."

For a moment Jon seemed slightly shocked at the fact Sansa agreed to have lessons with him. "Okay" he sadi after a moments silence. "We can start tomorrow. Oh, but Sansa, please don't tell anyone. I don't think this will be very approved of. Lady Stark won't like it."

Sansa smiled at him, and felt most of her anger wash away. "Thank you again Jon."

He smiled back at her, before turning and walking off to his own practice.

With a new sense of happiness, Sansa decided that she would go to breakfast after all. After her talk with Jon, she felt like she could face Robb without feeling like she wanted to rip his head off. This didn't mean she had forgiven him (after all she hadn't forgotten that Theon had witnessed the entire thing) but decided to bide her time until she could get some type of revenge.

Everyone was there when she entered the dining room. "There you are Sansa." said her father, giving her a friendly smile.

"Why are you late?" asked her mother, as Sansa took her place at the table.

"I just went for a walk." As she spoke, she could have sworn she saw Theon smile, just a little. It made her groan inwardly. He found her embarassment funny. It couldn't get much worse than that.

_Stop it. _She scolded herself. _You're probably going to end up married to Joffery. Why should you care what Theon thinks of you?_

It was question she had asked herself over and over gain the night before. Why did she care. She hated to admit it, but she knew the answer.

"Well now you're all here," said Ned, putting down his knife and fork. "I need to talk to you about something."

"What is it Father?" asked Robb, seemingly worried about his father's solemn expression. Ned paused for a minute, trying to find the words to say what he was thinking. "I got word today that the royal party have been travelling here for the past month. They are set to arrive tomorrow." He stopped and sighed, rubbing his forehead for a moment. "They apologised for the short notice but said they wanted it to be a surprise."

"Well it certainly is!" said Lady Stark. She was outraged that her family had not been given anywhere near enough time to prepare for a royal visit. "How will we get all the rooms ready overnight?"

"I don't know. But I'm going to have to ask the staff to work longer than normal. I'll pay them for the extra work. And children, you're going to have to help out to get the work done."

"Of course father." said Robb.

While everyone else burst into chatter about the upcoming arrival of the royal family, Sansa sat in silence. She couldn't help but think that Joffery was the exact distraction she needed.


	4. Chapter 4

Sansa spent the next hour after breakfast deciding what she would wear the next day. She decided she must look her best, as first impression were always the ones that lasted the longest. If Joffery did not see her as beautiful tomorrow, he would never see her as beautiful at all. Sansa didn't know much about marriage but she did know that the husband should find the wife somewhat attractive. Sansa felt five years old looking at her fancy gowns again; like a child playing dress up. This time was different, however. This time, her prince was real.

After picking out the perfect blue dress to wear for the arrival of the royal party, Sansa couldn't help the smile slide onto her face. The colour would go perfectly with her flaming hair. She couldn't help but wonder whether or not Joffery would like it.

_I wonder if Theon will like it?_

At that thought, she scolded herself for the second time that day. She shouldn't care what Theon thought. **Not at all.** Why was she even bothering thinking about him? She loved Joffery...at least she thought she did. She had never met him, after all. She had only heard about him from tales of knights who passed through Winterfell. But that didn't matter. Wives must love their husbands. That was the rule she was always taught while growing up.

A sharp knock at her door pulled her from her thoughts.

"Yes?" she said, getting up from her bed and smoothing down her skirts. It wouldn't be right for someone to see her flustered.

No one answered her back; instead her door just slowly opened to reveal Theon standing there. Sansa let out a gasp. "You can't be in here!" she said in a hushed voice. "It's extremely inappropriate!" Theon just shrugged his shoulders.

"I may as well be your brother. It's not like anything 'inappropriate' is going to happen." At his words, Sansa couldn't help but feel her heart sink just a little. She shouldn't be bothered by the idea that he saw her as nothing more than a sister, but for some reason she was.

"So what did you want then?" she asked, trying to shake the disappointment off of her.

Theon just stared at her for a moment before closing the bedroom door and walking over and sitting on her bed. "I wanted to talk to you about the royal party arriving here tomorrow."

This was the last thing Sansa expected him to want to talk to her about. From what she knew, Theon had never really cared much for the Baratheons.

"I know you're completely infatuated with Joffery, and thinks that he's you're knight in shining armour, but you need to remember that you barely know him." He paused for a minute to find his words. "I know you're pretty much hell bent on marrying him, but you shouldn't judge a book by it's cover."

Sansa narrowed her eyes at Theon and crossed her arms defensively over her chest. "What exactly are you trying to say?"

"I'm trying to say that Joffery may not be the prince charming you expect. My friends form down south tell me he's got a temper. I just don't want you to be too close when he gets angry."

This made Sansa's heart leap. Of course she wasn't happy that Joffery had a temper; no, she was happy that Theon actually cared enough about her to come and say something, even if she didn't see any real threat.

"Thank you for the warning Theon but I think I'll be okay. I'm to be his wife...Joffrey would never hurt me."

The fact that she didn't seem to take him too seriously angered Theon. "Sansa I'm serious. Apparently he can get violent...I don't want you to get hurt."

"Theon," she said, placing a hand on his arm. "I'll be fine. I'm sure he'll never lay a hand on me."

He looked up at her, a pained expression on his face. "Fine." He snapped abruptly getting up and shaking her arm off in the process. "But remember that sometimes people end up hurting the ones they say they love." With that he quickly exited her room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Sansa just stood there, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Theon had basically admitted that her cared about her and that he was worried about her, even if it was from an empty threat. After all, Joffrey would never hurt her. But, although he had admitted he cared for her he did also tell her it was in a brotherly way. That made her sad, but also certain. She knew now that nothing could ever possibly happen between her and Theon. Now, she could focus all of her attention on becoming the perfect wife for the prince of the seven kingdoms.

Unfortunately, becoming the perfect wife involved learning a variety of skills that she just didn't see the need for. For once, she actually agreed with Arya.

That afternoon they were being forced to have lesson on how to entertain a man with simple conversation. Arya, of course, said she would only talk o men about swords, as well as other forms of fighting. Sansa felt like she already had the necessary skills to engage a man in conversation, but her mother was making her take a lesson anyway.

Robb, Jon and Theon were watching them, along with Rickon and Bran, and all of them were laughing at herself and Arya as they trying to make 'proper' conversation.

"Mother!" Arya groaned for about the fifth time since they had started the lesson. "I know how to speak to people! Why on earth do I have to sit here in lesson?"

Catelyn pursed her lips at her youngest daughter and let out a sigh. "Fine. Arya you are dismissed. But don't do anything silly!"

Arya had a smile almost as wide as her face as she hopped up from her place at the table. "Come on Jon!"she said, grabbing her brother's hand and dragging him out of the room. Sansa didn't miss the disapproving look her mother had as Ayra did so.

"Does that mean that I can leave too?" Sansa asked hopefully. Her mother shook her head at her eldest daughter.

"No you cannot. As much as I'm not thrilled that the royal party is arriving tomorrow, they are. This means you all need to be in tip-top condition. Especially my girls."

"But you just let Arya go!"

Catelyn nodded. "Yes. Because I know that she is not going to make any improvement. You, on the other hand, will."

Sansa let out a huff and stomped her foot, causing the boys to laugh behind her. "Fine. But can we please be quick? I have other things to prepare for." Catelyn agreed and the rest of the lesson passed a lot quicker than Sansa expected. By the end, she didn't want to have another proper question again.

She quickly thanked her mother and began to exit the room. As she did so, however, Robb fell into step with her. "That was entertaining, little sister."

Sansa just crossed her arms and carried on walking, acting completely oblivious to his presence. "So where are you head off to now?" he asked her, not realising she was attempting to ignore him. He got the jist, however, when she didn't answer.

"Sansa, why aren't you speaking to me?"

She stopped abruptly in the corridor, causing him to come to a halt to. "If you must know, Robb, I am mad at you because of this morning."

Robb looked quite puzzled. "You're mad at me because I said you couldn't handle a sword?"

Sansa nodded. "Partly, yes. I don't need you making decisions like that for me. It's not like I was running into battle."

"No, but I don't want you to get any ideas. It's bad enough that Jon's teaching Arya how to fight, you don't need to learn to."

"Wait," said Sansa. "Arya's learning how to fight?"

Robb nodded.

"And you fon't want meto learn because...?"

"Because I need to have at least one little sister who's safe."

Sansa couldn't help but feel touched by his words. She understood that he wanted her to be safe, but it was double standards again. Arya was allowed to do something she wasn't.

"I appreciate your concern, Robb, but I'm sure I'd be safe just learning," she hesitated a moment. "especially if Arya can do it."

Robb's soft expression immediately faded and turned hard. "I said no, Sansa. You need to respect my position as your older brother and listen when I tell you not to do something. If I find out you are doing anything of the sort, then I'll have to go to mother and father and you know there'll be consequences." He gave her one last look before turning and walking off down the corridor.

Sansa stood there, stunned by his words. He had never pulled 'the big brother card' in such a serious manor before. It made her slightly scared, but at the same time sent blood rushing through her veins. For the first time in her life, she wanted to break the rules.


	5. Chapter 5

The morning of the royal arrival, Sansa made sure to wakeup hours before everyone else. This was mainly for two reasons; one: she wanted to be perfect for when the prince arrived, and two: she had her first sword lesson.

A small part of her, the part that couldn't let her forget how badly she treated Jon, told her that he would have forgotten, or was only joking about teaching her, but only minutes after she had finished getting ready, a knock sounded at her door. "Come in," she said while tightly lacing her boot. The door creaked open and Jon walked into the room, dressed in his normal training clothes with his sword at his side.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked her. Sansa noticed that he was standing rather awkwardly beside her door. She realised that he had never actually entered her chambers before.

"Yes." she said, quickly hopping up from her bed. She smoothed out her riding dress (for this was the most appropriate thing she had for fighting) and walked towards where her half-brother stood. She smiled tightly at him as he stood aside to let her eave first. She was still so unaccustomed to his politeness.

"So Sansa," he began as they walked side by side through the empty corridors of the castle. "Do you know anything at all about handling a sword?"

Sansa shook her head shyly.

"Wellit looks like we will be startng right from the bottom then." He gave her a grin, which she tried to return, but she kust couldn't. He was too nervous; not at all about the fact that she would be handling a sword, but about embarrassing herself, and most importantly, proving Robb right. She wanted to make sure people knew she wasn't _just a little girl. _

When they reached the training area, the dummies were already lined up and ready to be hacked at. Three training swords were laid out on the floor beside them, and it was here that Jon stopped walking.

"Now Sansa, the first thing you need to do before you begin to use a sword, is pick one. These three are the lightest we have, so this is your choice." He bent down and picked up the one beside his foot. "Try this. Tell me if you feel in balance when you hold it." He then handed her the sword.

It felt heavy in her hands. Sansa couldn't help but wonder how heavy the other swords were if this was one of the lightest. She thought that the hilt of the sword fit snugly in her hand, but something just didn't feel right in the way she couldn't raise her arm. Maybe this was what Jon meant about balance?

"It feels like it's dragging me down." She said handing the sword back to Jon."It that was you mean about balance?"

Jon nodded as he placed the sword back onto the ground. "Yes. You need to feel completely aligned, or the swords not right for you. I doubt we'll get it accurate, but we can get it as close as we possibly can. Try this one." He handed her the second sword. This one felt better, but she still felt like she was somehow out of balance. "This one doesn't feel quite right either."

Jon took the second sword from her and handed her the third one. "Let's hope this one feels a lot better."

It did. With the third sword in her hands, Sansa did not feel as if she was about to fall or if she was out of balance at all. It felt like a metal glove that fit perfectly into her hand. "This one feels okay."

Jon smiled. "Good. Let's begin." He then drew his sword out of its sheath and stood in the starting position. "Now, I'm going to tell you the same thing I told Arya. Stick them with the pointy end."

Sansa rolled her eyes. "Jon, I know which end to use."

"Funny," he said raising his eyebrows. "That's what Arya said."

"Okay, so now I know which end to use, what do I do after that?"

"You need to remember to always hold the sword above your waist. That way you can get the best attack."

Sansa moved her hand so that she was holding the sword just above her waist. "Like this?"

Jon nodded. "Very good. But you need to hold it a lot more steady." He put his sword down and walked over to her. "Like this." He moved her arm so that it wasn't dipping or shaking.

As he was moving her arm into position, Sansa thought about how strange it felt to be alone with Jon. She never had before. It wasn't at all awkward either, which was something Sansa had expected. Even though he had told her that he didn't resent her at all, she was sure he must have been lying.

"Sansa!" his voice brought her back to reality.

"Yes?"

"If you are going to be learning to use a sword, you need to pay attention!" he gave her a stern look. "This isn't something that you mess around with. You need to take this seriously."

"Yes. Sorry." She shook her head. "I was just thinking."

"Well you need to keep your mind on the fighting. One moment of distraction and you could die."

Sansa took a sharp gasp of breath. He was right.

"Not that you'll ever get into a situation where that could happen." He paused. "Wow. That's actually scary to think about."

"What?"

"You being in a life or death situation." He said gravely. "It's not something I enjoy imagining."

Sansa couldn't stop herself. "Why not?" she asked.

Jon actually froze. He turned to look at his sister. His face was a mixture of confused and angry. "Why would you even ask that?" he said taking a step towards her. Sansa let her arm go limp and shrugged.

"I don't know...I mean we've never really got on...I've said some horrid things..." she trailed off at the look on Jon's face.

"Sansa, please tell me you don't think I would want you dead because you've said some stuff in the past?" When she didn't answer, he let out a bitter laugh. "Unbelievable."

"But Jon I-"

"Sansa!" he cut her off and grabbed her shoulders. "I don't care if you said some things to me, or if you ignored me in the past! You're my sister and I love you know matter what you do, even if it hurts me. And don't you even dare think again that I would want you in any type of dangerous situation! Like I said yesterday: you're my sister. If you need help, I'll give it to you."

His words actually made tears pool in her eyes. "Jon...I'm so sorry."

His face turned from stern to soft. "I know."

Sansa put her sword down and did something she had never done before; she hugged her brother.

"Woah there." He said. She had caught him by surprise and he had almost staggered back from the force. "You've never hugged me before."

"I know." said Sansa hugging him tighter. Jon hugged her back just as tight.

"Now sister, let's get back to our lesson."

"Okay." said Sansa picking up her sword. For the first time, she felt comfortable around her half-brother.

The rest of the lesson passed quickly and when Sansa and Jon both left to get ready, they left on good terms. Sansa felt a new sense of happiness that she finally felt at peace with Jon. It had been an emotional morning, but now Sansa knew not only how her brother felt, but also how to use a sword. Well, the basics at least. She now had to change and do her hair, so that she looked perfect when the royal party arrived later on. She was nervous, of course. But a part of her couldn't wait to meet the man that may possibly be her future husband. A different part of her, however, couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have a husband who wasn't Joffrey...like Theon for instance. What would it be like if she was married to him?

_No!_ She thought, quickly banishing the thought from her head. _That's not even a possibility. _

She really needed to stop thinking about Theon. It wasn't healthy todweel on things that would never come true.

"Sansa!" someone called. Speak of the devil. She looked up to see Theon closing the door to his room.

"Yes?" she said, trying to sound ladylike (as if she hadn't just been outside fighting with a sword).

"Aren't you meant to be getting ready?"he asked as he walked up to her. He was dressed in a large amount of furs, and looked very handsome. His hair was also neatly swept back from his face, instead of hanging in his eyes. The look suited him.

"I was just about to go and change. I can't really have the royal family seeing me like this, can I?"

"Oh Sansa. You look beautiful in whatever you were, so it shouldn't matter."

Sansa blinked a couple of times, trying to find words to answer. "Thank you?" It came out sounding more like a question.

Theon gave Sansa a sad smile. "Joffrey's one lucky prince." This caused Sansa to blush furiously. It was going to be hard for her to forget him if he kept on saying things like that.

"Um, I should probably go..." she mumbled. She then tried to walk past him but he grabbed her arm.

"Sansa," he said gravely. "Remember what I said yesterday."

She did. Very clearly. She just didn't want it to be true. "Look, Theon, I have to go." He nodded and released her.

She quickly ran to her room and got inside before closing her door. She actually had no words for what had just happened. She didn't even have time to think about it. She had to get ready. She pulled off the clothes that she was wearing and through them into a pile on the floor. Sansa then proceeded to pull the blue dress she had picked out the day before over her head. Next she had to do her hair. She decided to do two simple French plaits across the top of her head. She then washed her face and pinched her cheeks to give some colour to her porcelain skin. By the time she was dressed and ready, nearly an hour had passed.

Lord Stark had decided that his entire family as well as all of the staff would wait by the gates of the castle to greet the royal family. Her mother and father stood next to get other, and Rickon was beside thier mother, holding her hand. Robb stood next to their father, and then Sansa next to Robb. He kept on giving her sideways glances, as if he knew what she did this morning. She knew he didn't but she couldn't shale the feeling that he knew _something. _

Jon, because he was a basterd, stood in the row behind the true born Starks. Theon stood next to him, looking as handsome a he did when she spoke to him earlier. On Sansa's right stood Bran. The only person that was missing seemed to be Arya. 

As the sounds of the royal family approaching reached their ears, Catelyn looked around at her children. "Where's Arya?" she asked when she noticed the absence of her youngest daughter. She then turned to Sansa. "Sansa where's your sister?"

Sansa just shrugged. Why should she know where that little rascal was? It's not like they enjoyed each other's company.

Suddenly a little figure ran past them, wearing a large helmet on its head. Ned grabbed the figure and lifted the helmet to reveal Arya.

"What are you doing?" he asked with a chuckle. When she just innocently smiled at him he gave her a little push. "Go on." She then marched over to Bran and pushed him aside so that she could stand in place next to her sister. All of the boys were laughing at Arya's actions, but Sansa didn't find them at all funny. If anyone had seen her running around in a helmet, it would have been highly embarrassing. Not that anyone else seemed to realise that.

_But you were fighting with a sword just this morning._ Said that little voice in her head. So what if she was? That was for self defence. Arya was just acting like an idiot.

The royal part had finally reached the castle, and the gates opened to reveal a parade of horses. After about thirty knights rode in, holding flags bearing the symbol of the king, and then the king himself road in. He was a large man. He did not look at all regal. On the contrary, he looked rather common. He had a short black beard that reminded Sansa a lot of the bristles at the end of a broom. After the king came two more horses, and then a large enclosure. Sansa realised that this must hold the queen and her two youngest children.

That's when Sansa saw _him._ He was on one of the two horses that had been riding directly behind the king. Joffrey was exactly how Sansa had imagined him. He was tall, she could see that even from his position sitting atop a horse. Unlike his father, he had golden straw-like hair and dazzling blue eyes. He must have got both of those traits from his mother. As his horse came to a stop, his eyes met hers. He gave her a smile sly. She blushed and smiled back. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Robb look between her and Joffrey with furrowed eyebrows. She could tell he didn't like the way Joffrey was looking at her. No that she minded.

As the king got off of his horse, everyone bowed.

"Ned." Said the King, coming to a stop in front of her father. "Good to see you again!" Everyone rose as the two men embraced in a hug. As they began a chat, Joffrey got off of his horse and walked over to where Sansa was standing with her siblings.

"An you must be the lovely Lady Sansa." He said, taking her hand and placing a kiss on it. "I'm prince Joffrey."

"I know." giggled Sansa. "Your reputation precedes you."

Joffrey gave her another flirtatious smile. "I must go and unpack, but we should take a walk later."

"Okay." said Sansa as even more blood rushed to her cheeks. She felt so giddy and happy.

"That was disgusting!" said Robb as Joffrey walked over to where his mother was standing.

"Excuse me?" said Sansa glaring at her brother. She could see Arya pretending to throw up behind him.

"Well that was quite gross watching me little sister flirt."

"I was not flirting!" she said, stomping her foot indigently. "I was just being polite!"

"Sure." He said with an eye roll. "That's what it was."

Arya and Bran were laughing at their sister who was slowly losing her temper.

"Come on Robb, stop teasing her," said Jon, putting a hand on his sisters shoulder.

"Sansa and Joffrey sitting in a tree," sang Arya and Bran. "K-I-S-S-I-N-G." They fell over in fits of giggles as Sansa's face turned as red as her hair.

"Enough!" said Jon, his voice firm. This silenced Bran and Arya, but they were still desperately trying to hold in their laughter.

"Come on Sansa." said Theon, joining the conversation for the first time. "They're only joking."

"I don't care!" she snapped "It isn't funny and I'm always the butt of their jokes!"

"Well," said Robb, stony faced, "Maybe you should keep your flirting to a low then."

With that they all fell back into fits of laughter.

"Just ignore them, Sansa." said Jon quietly into his sisters ear.

"Don't worry," she said. "I plan to." She gave him a tight smile before marching off into the castle. She wanted to be around people more civilized than her idiotic siblings.


	6. Chapter 6

After meeting Joffery for the first time, Sansa knew he was the one for her. He was handsome, and looked so powerful, and...well, she didn't know much else about him, but she was sure he had some more good points she just didn't know about. He seemed to like her to. That was the only thing she had been worrying about. If he didn't like her, her entire future would collapse in front of her eyes. Okay that might be a bit dramatic, but she would defiantly have to re consider a lot of things if she didn't marry Joffery. Like her future living arrangements. Without Joffery taking her to the south, she would probably have to stay in the north and marry some minor lord. Not only did that sound like her worst nightmare, but it also sounded like a living hell. She couldn't spend the rest of her life in Winterfell, she just couldn't.

Another thing she had to worry about was the Queen. She knew from stories how picky she was about the people that were around her children. She didn't want any bad influences around the future king. Sansa hoped that the queen would like her. She saw no reason for her not to - after all she was well behaved, polite and very, very lady like.

_When |talk to her I'll probably not mention that I'm learning to fight._ Thought Sansa. Something told her the queen wouldn't approve of that.

The entire castle seemed so much busier now that the royal family had arrived. This was not only because the efficacy of the staff had improved, but also because there were so many more people milling around the corridors and occupying rooms. She could see a whole manor of people she have never seen before, bustling around with trunks and other positions of the king. As she passed the great dining hall she could see the guards that had come along drinking and laughing together at a table. They looked extremely happy to no longer be riding.

Sansa intended to go to her room and spend the afternoon catching up on sewing, and deciding what she was going to were to the banquet tonight, but fate seemed to have other plans.

"My Lady," said a cocky voice. She tore her eyes away from the great hall to met the crystal blue eyes of Prince Charming.

"Yes, your highness?" said Sansa, curtsying and batting her eyelashes at Joffery. His smirk got even bigger and he took a step closer to her.

"I was wondering if you would like to show me around the gardens?" he said offering her his arm. He already knew the answer.

"I would love you!" exclaimed Sansa, taking his arm. He looked her over as she did so, making her blush.

"Let us go then, fair lady."

Sansa led him through the corridors of the castle and into the elaborate gardens of the castle. Despite the constant chill of the air, flowers still grew quite well, and her mother loved to spend time tending to them.

"These flowers are beautiful." Commented Joffery as they stopped beneath an archway of red roses.

"Yes," agreed Sansa, reaching out and touching a silky soft petal. "My mother has done a fine job with the garden."

"That's not the only thing she's done a fine job with." Sansa gasped, heat quickly rising to her cheeks.

"Your highness! I do believe you're mistaken." She said with a nervous giggle. She had never had a man be this forward with her before.

"No, I'm not. For example, your hair is a more beautiful shade of red than these roses could ever be. And please, call me Joffery." He reached a hand up and stroked her cheek. His fingertips sent a chill down her spine, and her breath caught in her throat."You are as beautiful as the stories say."

"Joffery-" Sansa began, but he put a finger on her lips.

"Don't speak." He said simply. He then lowered his head, and softly placed his lips on hers. Sansa was surprised. Her first instinct was to pull away, put she stayed firmly in place. She let her eyes flutter shut and her arms become limp. His lips felt as soft as silk against hers. It sent chills down her spine and made her heart beat so fat she thought it would explode. He then started to move his lips against hers. At first she didn't know what to do, but she just mimicked his movements, moving her lips to the same rhythm as his. Doing this made her feel so alive, and made her feel like she was on a high that she could never come down from. Now she understood what all the fuss was about.

"Wow." said Joffery as he pulled away. He was smirking again, obviously happy with his achievement. Sansa just stood there, stunned and happy. She felt cold now, and desperately wanted to recapture his lips with hers, but she knew if she did that, she wouldn't want to stop.

"Your highness." Both Sansa and Joffery turned their heads in the direction of the speaker.

"Theon!" said Sansa with gasp. If she wasn't blushing already, blood would be rushing to her face.

"You're wanted in the castle." He said fatly to Joffery, avoiding looking at Sansa. Joffery nodded and turned to Sansa. "See you later." He said with his cocky grin. He turned and walked off, obviously extremely pleased with himself.

The look Theon gave her after Joffery had left said what no words could. His pursed lips and furrowed eyebrows sais it all. He had seen her kiss Joffery, and he was disappointed. There was something else she could she in his eyes to...could it be jealously? No. She was stupid even to think that. Theon could have any girl he wanted. Why would he be jealous of Joffery having her?

"I'll see you at dinner." He said bitterly, giving her one last look of disappointment, before turning around and marching off.

Sansa couldn't help but wonder if she had kissed the wrong man underneath the archway.


	7. Chapter 7

Sansa stood there, watching Theon walk away. A lump had risen in her throat, and she felt an un easy sense of guilt. She could not help but wonder why he was so angry. The only reason she could think of was that he was jealous. But she told herself a million times before: he could have any girl. Why would he want her? It was a question that kept her awake at night, and made her hate herself for even considering the possibility, but now, she couldn't help but think it was true. Theon was jealous of her feelings for Joffery. She felt silly, thinking it so boldly. This boy, who was at least four years her senior, and extremely good looking; it felt silly saying that he liked her.

When he had finally disappeared from her view, she let out a sigh of relief and began to follow in his footsteps. She had to go and get ready for dinner that night.

A few hours later, Sansa was dressed and ready to face anything that might come her way. If you were to look at her, you would have thought she was from the south, considering all of the fine silks and bright colours she was wearing. Most other women who originated from the north were wearing furs, and darker colours; in fact, you would have only known she was from the north because of the pink colour of her cold bitten cheeks. The great dining hall was alive with activity when she entered. Over twenty tables were set out, and people were free to change seats as often as they liked. It helped new friends get made and old ones become requited. At the far end of the room, there was a raised table. This was for her parents to sit at, and also for the adults of the royal family. Currently, it was almost empty, with the exception of her mother and the Queen. King Robert was a few tables down, laughing merrily while surround by women. Her father, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen. Sansa guessed that he was off somewhere, silently thinking. He didn't like large festivities such as this.

She began to weave her way between the tables, until she reached the one opposite the Royal table. Bran and Rickon were sat at this table, as well as Arya. Sansa made sure that she sat as far away from her sister as possible; she didn't need to be embarrassed tonight. There were two empty seats at the table, and Sansa guessed that they were Robb's and Theon's. She assumed that they were out there in the crowd somewhere, talking to their friends, and having a good time. She twisted slightly in her seat to see whether or not she could spot them. She could see Robb, a few tables away, drink in his hand and a grin on his face. This made Sansa smile. He rarely had the opportunity to be happy with his friends. Then, her eyes began searching for Theon. She couldn't help herself. But curiosity killed the cat, and this certainly applied to Sansa. She spotted Theon sitting on the table behind Robb's. He wasn't alone, however. On his lap sat a young girl whose top was too low and whose smile was too flirtatious.

Sansa took a sharp breath and looked away. She didn't want to watch Theon and his whores. "Sansa?" someone said.

"What?" she snapped at the person. She turned around to see her friend, Mary, standing there, looking surprised at her outburst. "I'm sorry." Sansa said with a sigh.

"It's okay." Said Mary, taking the seat next to her. "I heard you went for a walk with the Prince this afternoon. How was it?"

"Amazing!" said Sansa, a smile suddenly lighting up her features. "He was so sweet and kind."

"Lucky you!" said Mary, giggling. "You're so lucky you found your prince!" Her eyes then focused on something over Sansa's shoulder. "Don't look now, but the prince is staring at you!"

Sansa turned around to see Joffery sitting only a few tables away, staring at her, giving her a signature smirk. Sansa smiled shyly back at him and then turned back around to Mary. "Isn't he handsome?" she said with an excited squeal.

Mary nodded in agreement. "Wow Sansa you are so lucky!"

It was then that a maid came over to Sansa and told her that the queen wanted a word with her. Quickly she excused herself and went over to where her mother sat with the queen.

"Hello Little Dove." Said the queen as Sansa reached the table. "But you are a beauty." Sansa couldn't do anything but smile. She was so happy that the queen had called her beautiful she was at a loss for words.

"How old are you?" asked the queen.

"Sixtee, your grace." Said Sansa with a little smile.

"You're tall," she commented, looking her up and down. "Still growing?"

"I think so your grace." Said Sansa trying to keep the smile on her face. There was something off about the way the queen looked at her. She tried not to think too much into it.

"And have you bled yet?" asked the queen. At her words Sansa's smile dropped from her face. It was such a personal question to ask, she didn't know how to reply. She had bled; she started a few years ago, but just as she was about to answer, she saw her mother shake her head out of the corner of her eye. Her mother wanted her to lie to the queen.

"No, your grace." Said Sansa, shaking her head.

The queen did not reply to this but instead asked: "And your dress, did you make it?"

The smile quickly returned Sansa's face as she nodded her head. The dress was one of the finer pieces she had made and she was very proud of it. It touched her that the queen had noticed.

"Such talent." Said the queen with another one of those sickly sweet smiles. "You much make something for me."

Again, Sansa eagerly nodded her head. With one last smile, Sansa turned and walked away. As she headed back to her seat at the table, she couldn't help but think that something was off about the queen. As if she was smiling too sweetly and being too kind. For once Sansa told herself to trust her instincts. She knew she wasn't being silly; she should beware the queen.

When Sansa sat back down a t her table, she saw that Robb had filled one of the empty spaces. He was laughing along at something Arya had just said. _No doubt immature._ Thought Sansa, bitterly. She had a growing resentment towards her sister. Everyone loved Arya, loved her little jokes, her messing around. Even though it got in the way, she was still so sweet and so loved, and couldn't do _anything_ wrong. Sansa was reprimanded if she put even a foot out of line. She couldn't fight; that wasn't ladylike. She could run around and have fun with the boys; that wasn't ladylike. She couldn't do anything that Arya could do...because it wasn't _ladylike._ Subconsciously Sansa narrowed her eyes at Arya. Despite the fact that she was far from it, everyone acted like she was perfect.

"What's wrong Sansa?" asked Bran, when he noticed his sister's sour expression.

"Nothing." Said Sansa quickly shaking away her glare. She could tell Arya had noticed who the glare was directed at, as she was now staring daggers back at her older sister.

"Come on sister, cheer up!" said Robb, from across the table. "This is a celebration!"

" I suppose-" began Sansa, but she never got to finish, as something gooey and wet made contact with her cheek. She let out a very girly shriek after realising that it was gravy and mashed potatoes. She looked up to see Arya, laughing at her from her side of the table.

"You little monster!" yelled Sansa, drawing the attention of the other tables. She was mortified. What if the prince had seen...or worse, the queen? _Or Theon._ Said a small voice inside of her head. "How dare you!"

Arya was still madly laughing, and so was, Sansa realised with a sinking heart, the rest of her siblings. So much for Robb reprimanding her then. He was laughing just as much as the rest of them, and it hurt Sansa a little to know that her embarrassment was funny to him. Sure, the others were laughing, but they were younger; they didn't know better. He on the other hand was the oldest. He should be telling Arya off for behaving so badly.

At a stern look from his mother, however, he stopped his chuckling and picked Arya up off of the bench. "Come on you. Time for bed." He then walked her out of the hall.

With her face even sour than before, Sansa wiped the food away marched out of the hall after them. She was going to put the little beast in her place once and for all.

"I don't understand why you feel the need to constantly embarrass me!" Sansa hissed as she caught up with her brother and sister. They both turned in the hallway to look at their sisterin surprise. She was usually quiet and clam, snapping at Arya and letting it go. But Sansa felt like she had 'let it go' far too many times. She needed to let Arya know that she couldn't push her around anymore.

"What do you mean?" Arya snapped back. "You're the one who embarrasses yourself. You don't need my help."

"Shut up!" Sansa yelled taking a step towards her sister. "All you do is make a fool of me! You tease me and taunt me; it stops now!"

Arya crossed her arms defiantly over her chest. "Or what?"

Something inside of Sansa snapped. She didn't care that Arya was only an inch or two off of her own height, she didn't care that Robb was watching. She lunged for her sister.

"I hate you!" she shrieked as she grabbed Arya's hair. She yanked as hard as she could, smirking when her sister let out a yelp of pain. Arya was a good fighter, however, and managed to kick Sansa in the shins.

"You want to fight," said Arya as her sister let go. "Fine." She ran at Sansa, grabbing her around the waist and tackling her to the floor. She hit the ground hard and groaned. Then she felt a fist connect with her mouth. Suddenly Sansa couldn't taste dinner anymore. Only blood. She got her own back by smacking Arya across the face. Her well groomed nails left deep scratches on her cheek.

"Girls!" shouted Robb, desperately trying to getting between his two sisters. He couldn't manage to pull Arya off of Sansa. They were fighting so hard he couldn't separate them.

"What the fuck?" said a voice from the end of the hall. Robb turned t give his half brother a look.

"Come help me!" he yelled, grabbing a hold of Sansa's arm, which was about to make contact with Arya's right eye. Jon rushed over and grabbed Arya by the waist, surprising her. This allowed Sansa to give her one last good kick before she was pulled off of her completely.

"Let go!" mumbled Arya, thrashing around in Jon's arms to try and reach Sansa. Sansa was doing exactly the same thing, trying to wriggle her way out of Robb's arms to in one last good hit.

"Stop it!" snapped Robb. He said the words with such anger that they did actually freeze in place. Neither of them had seen him this angry before. "I can't believe you two."

"She started it!" hissed Arya, narrowing her eyes at her sister.

"This fight started long ago." Sansa snapped back. "The day you were born."

"What are you trying to say?" asked Arya between clenched teeth.

Sansa heisted before saying it: "I wish you were never born."

She felt her brother stiffen behind her. No once, in all of their fights and arguments, had a Stark child said that to another before.

Jon was the first to recover from her words. "Look. You two need fixing up. Let's go visit the doctor."

Reluctantly, both sisters followed Jon and Robb.

Once they had been cleaned up by the doctor, he swore to Robb he wouldn't say a word of this to his parents. "It'll ruin their night," he said. The doctor agreed and left, bowing to the siblings. Arya was then sent up to bed. She gave her brothers a hug each, and Sansa a glare, before going up to her chambers with a nurse in tow. Sansa got up to leave too, but she was stopped. Robb stood in the entrance of the room blocking her exit.

"Not you." He said. "Sit." When she went to argue, he narrowed his eyes at her and repeated the word. "_Sit._"

She turned and sat down on the sofa she had just left. Both Robb and Jon were standing in front of her, with faces like thunder. They looked so angry; she just couldn't bear to look.

_But of course Jon would be angry. _She thought, bitterly. No matter how many sweet moments they had shared, in the past she had always been horrid to him and Arya had been nice. Of course when it came down to it he would side with Arya.

"I cannot believe you did that." His voice was louder than usual, but he wasn't shouting - yet.

Sansa just sat there and stayed quiet. She knew she was in trouble. She didn't want to get Robb even more angry.

"You know, family don't fight." He continued. "They're meant to love each other."

"I do love her-" began Sansa, but she was cut off.

"You don't fight the people you love." Said Jon. Although he didn't look as angry as Robb, there was something else she could see in his eyes. Disappointment maybe? Surprise at her actions? She couldn't be sure. The only thing she was sure of was that she was in a heap of trouble.

"I will always love her," said Sansa in her monotone voice."But I don't always like her. For example, I didn't like her when she threw food at me."

Robb snorted and shook his head. "So she pulled a childish prank? Get over it! Be the bigger person! Sansa, I thought you were better than petty fights."

She felt tears well up in her eyes. He didn't know what it was like. Not at all. "Well maybe I'm tired of being the bigger person!" she snapped, abruptly getting up. "I forgive her again and aging for being immature! Where does forgiveness get me? No where! It just makes her think that she can walk all over me, but she can't." She stopped for a breath and looked her brother straight in the eye. "You're no help either, _Robb_." She practically spat his name.

"Excuse me?" Sansa knew she was treading on egg shells now. No matter what, he was still her older brother and third in command of the North. It wasn't a wise idea to insult him. Today, however, Sansa felt brave.

"You. Don't. Help." She deeply emphasised each syllable."Laughing at her encourages her. Don't deny it, you laughed when she threw that food in my face."

"So what if I did? Sansa it was a joke! I don't get why you take these things so personally!"

"Because it's always me!" she was shouting now, and the flood barriers in her eyes were on the verge of breaking. "I'm always the butt of every joke because I'm the only one who tries to act like a lady! Then when I try to join in on the fun I get told off for not being proper!" she stopped as the tears began to fall from her eyes. "I can never win."

Robb's face had softened, but it was still hard. Jon on the other had felt sorry for his weeping sister. Apart from him, she probably did have it the hardest. She was always expected to be perfect, and if she wasn't she was told off. As much as he loved Arya, he could see were Sansa was coming from. People laughed when she messed around and played with the boys; whenever Sansa tried, she was reprimanded for being in proper.

"I just don't get why everyone loves her more than they love me." She sniffled a little and put her head in her hands. "I try so hard."

What she was most worried about at the time of the joke was the prince. What if he was laughing along with everyone else? That would make her feel even more worthless.

"I'm sorry if you feel that way Sansa, I really am. But you should never start fights with anyone, especially a member of you family. You also have a duty as an older sibling," Robb paused and looked down at her with disappointment. "and you should not have said what you said."

He sighed and turned away. "Go to your room. I'll finish this conversation once the feast is over."

Sansa had never felt so small in her life. Robb had never talked down to her in the manor which he did just then, and it hurt. She knew he would never understand how she felt, and she knew he would only see Arya's point of view. She also knew she shouldn't have said that to her sister; she did regret her words. She did not regret the busted lip, however. Her smart mouth had had that coming for a long time.

Robb wouldn't even look at her as she left the room. This made her tears even worse. Jon, on the other hand, gave her a brief. She knew what that meant. It meant he'd talk to him.

They may have thought she was in the wrong for staring the fight, but Sansa was sure of one thing: she may have started the battle, but she didn't start the war.

As she trudged through the hallways she could hear the laughter of the party goers. She wanted to join them so badly, but she knew if she did Robb would call her out in front of everyone. Also, she didn't really wanted anyone to see her bruised face or cut lip.

When she reached her door she swung it open and closed it with such force she was surprised it didn't come off of the hinges. She was angry. With Arya. With Robb. But mostly with herself. She should have held in her temper...but she didn't want too. For too long now she had been picking 'should' over 'want'. This was probaly why. When she did what she wanted, people got mad...or hurt.

She was about to decide what she was going to do while she waited for Robb to return, when a voice spoke behind her.

"Sansa. I've been waiting for you."


	8. Jon's Chapter

Jon watched his sister walk away with sad and puffy eyes. He could tell she regretted what she had done, but she wasn't sorry. He couldn't be sure how the fight started, as he arrived part of the way through, but he could be sure that it was probably Arya. She was always winding Sansa up in some way or another. Part of Jon felt surprised; he hadn't realised how well Sansa could hold her own in a fight. The other part of him, the part that agreed with Robb, was disappointed. Family shouldn't fight, and however much the girls hated it, they were family.

Robb was still stony faced when Sansa left the room. Jon could see the anger and confusion in his eyes; he had seen Arya angry and punch people before, but he had never seen Sansa, sweet innocent lay a hand on another person.

"Robb," began Jon, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder. "We need to discuss this."

Robb sighed Deeply and turned way. "There is nothing for us to discuss. I will talk to Sansa later, and in the morning tell mother and father of her actions and they will punish her accordingly."

Jon was surprised. Normally, if one of the children did something wrong, Robb would give them quick scolding and then keep it to himself. He knew, more than the others, that their father was kind, but very, very strict. He was sure to be even stricter with the royal family staying.

"You can't be serious!" exclaimed Jon, giving his brother a look of surprise. "They'll crucify her!" Jon shook his head, "and no doubt the queen will find out and demand harsher punishment!" Robb just stood there, not looking at Jon. His face was still as hard as stone, which was a not a good sign.

Jon just couldn't believe that his brother was throwing his sister to the sharks.

"Robb, I know what she did was wrong, but you need to give her break! All she ever gets from Arya is constant torture and teasing! She's finally standing up for herself, granted in a very violent way but..." he trailed off, desperatly trying to think of whaaaaaasaaat to say.


	9. Chapter 9

Sansa turned around, her hair whipping back as she did so. Her heart was beating so fast she ws sure she could hear it echo around the room. She was not expecting anyone to be in here, let alone the person that was standing in front of her, plain as day.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, still breathing heavily from shock.

"I wanted to see if you were okay." Said Theon, taking a step towards Sansa, who was still standing very close to the door.

"Why wouldn't I be okay?" she asked, holding her head high. She hoped he hadn't seen the fight. Not only was it quite embarrassing, but it also made her look so immature. Granted, she didn't regret what she did...but that didn't mean it wasn't immature.

"I heard Robb yelling at you and Arya," said Theon, with a small, pitying smile. "I wanted to see if you were okay."

Sansa felt like she wanted to melt. He was being so sweet and so kind; maybe he did like her after all. _Not that it would make a difference. _Sansa reminded herself. "I'm fine." She told Theon with an unconvincing smile.

"I know when you're lying." Said Theon, cocking his head slightly. He looked her up and down."Besides, you're face speaks differently." Her face. Sansa had forgot about her face. She hadn't had a good chance to examine herself yet, but she was sure Arya had done some damage. She wasn't sure what to say to him now. She just stood there, her mouth slightly open, willing words unknown to her to spill out. But nothing came.

"Sansa," said Theon, his expression turning dark, "Robb...he didn't hit you, did he?"

"What!" exclaimed Sansa, her eyes widening like saucers. "No! Of course not!"

"Good." Said Theon, breathing a sigh of relief. Some of the darkness had gone from his face, but a good amount still lingered. He still wanted to know what had happened.

"Why would you even think that?" asked Sansa, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"Well, your face, and he was yelling..." he trailed off, shaking his head. "I know Robb would never do something like that, but I couldn't help but ask. If he had hit you, I would of-"

"You would have what?" said Sansa, cutting him off. A playful smile was now on her lips. "Challenged him to one to one combat? Because we all know who'd win."

Theon took another step forwards. He was so close now, that Sansa could smell the ale on his breath, and see every crinkle around his perfect smile. "I'd give him a very good talking too." He said, after what felt like an eternity.

"You'd do that for me?" said Sansa, still playful. Theon, on the other hand, turned completely serious.

"I'd do anything for you." He said. Sansa was stunned at his bold words. Her smile had fallen now, and she was looking at him with such confusion. But before she could ask anything, Theon had leant down, so his lips were barley brushing hers.

His leafy green eyes bored into hers as he asked: "May I?"

Sansa could only nod in reply.

Gently, Theon placed his lips on hers. Sansa closed her eyes, and the world seemed to stop round her. All she could feel was Theon against her, and that's all she wanted to feel. His kiss was gentler than Goffery's had been, but at the same time was more fierce. There had been no passion in that kiss, and now all Sansa could feel was passion. She threw her arms around Theon's neck, and his arms snaked around her waist, pulling them closer together. The less space between them, the better. The kiss quickly became more hungry, and Sansa, felt her back press against the door.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this," Theon mumbled against her lips. Sansa didn't reply; instead she silenced him with another passionate kiss. Theon began to leave her lips, and tail kisses along her jaw line and down her neck. This was something she had never experience before, and it sent jolts of excitement through her body. He then kissed a spot on her collar bone that made her gasp out in pleasure. "Theon!" she moaned her eyes flying open in surprise. This was all so new to her, and she didn't want too much to happen. She needed to stop things while she still could.

Luckily for Sansa, she didn't have to. A knock at the door made them abrptly jump apart. Sansa then began to painc. No one could know that Theon was in here - she'd get in to an enormous amount of trouble, as would he!

"Who is it?" called Sansa, trying to fix her hair which had gotten messy against the wood of the door. She turned to Theon and pointed to the bathroom, indicating he should hide in there.

"Robb." replied a gruff voice from the other side of the door. San's panic was suddenly replaced with worry and anger. She had forgot he wanted to talk to her.

"One second." She said, looking round to make sure that Theon was gone. After being sure that he was, Sansa opened the door, letting her brother in.

"How can I help you?" asked Sansa as her brother walked into the room, closing the door behind him. She knew she shouldn't be cheeky, but her sense of right and wrong was very blurred at the moment.

"Don't." Snapped Robb, "You know why I'm here." He walked over to her bed and sat down, nodding to the spot next to him. Reluctantly, Sansa walked over and sat next to her brother. There was a minute of awkward silence before he spoke.

"I'm not going to tell father what you did."

This surprised Sansa. She was sure that he would tell their father what she had done, and then she would be in huge trouble. Arya may be allowed to act like a boy, but whenever she would start fights with the local children, she would get in such trouble, she wouldn't even tell the others what her punishment was.

"Why aren't you going to tell them?" asked Sansa, suspiciously.

"Because Jon convinced me that Arya was antagonising you," said Robb. He still looked like the law enforcer he was trying to be, but some of his kindness was showing through the cracks. "Also, this is the first time you've done anything like this. As long as you don't do it again, I won't tell." He paused to look his sister dead in the eye. "But you know you should never turn on family. If you lose family, you've lost everything. Do you understand?"

Sansa nodded. "Of course I understand. Just because I don't always like Arya, doesn't mean I love her any less."

Robb gave her a smile. "You should probably come up for a story about how you got in that state." He then you up to leave. Sansa got up too, and threw her arms around his neck in a hug. Robb was startled. Sansa hadn't hugged him in a while.

"Thank you." She whispered, hugging him tighter.

Robb smiled. "I'm always here when you need me."


	10. Chapter 10

Theon left a few minutes after Robb did, to make sure that there was some distance between them. He gave Sansa a fleeting goodbye, and left quickly. Sansa knew exactly what that meant. It mean he was confused, just like she was, about the moment they shared. She didn't knew why he did it, but she told herself the only reason she kissed him back was because of the heat of the moment. There was no other reason. Sure, she might have harboured a crush on him at some far back point in her life, but as for now, she was in love with Joffrey. She had to be. He was handsome and charming after all...what was there not to love? But Theon...he was a _man._ He was handsome, in a _manly_ way, and was kind, caring and gentle, all things she had yet to find in Joffrey. But she had only spent a day with him. She would have to give him the benefit to the doubt, which meant more than a day, something she didn't mind at all.

The morning after the kiss, the Starks ate breakfast with the royal family. Instead of her mother and father being at the heads of the table, the king and her father were. Their respective wives sat next to them, and then the children dotted in between. Despite the fact that royalty was present, Jon was at the table. He sat opposite Sansa, and to his right was Robb. Theon sat to his left. Joffrey was seated next to Sansa, directly in front of Theon.

She barely heard the idle conversation among the people at the table. Joffrey was engaged in conversation with his uncle, after all, and the boys were talking amongst themselves. Arya was sat on Sansa's other side, but she kept as far away from her sister as possible. Sansa didn't care. She didn't want to be near Arya either. Robb kept on glancing nervously between the two of them, as if he expected another fight to break out. Sansa couldn't help but mentally role her eyes at the idea. She may be reckless when she was angry, but she wasn't stupid.

Though she tried her best to focus on her breakfast, Sansa's eyes kept on finding their way back to Theon. He was sitting there, silent, not even talking to Jon and Robb. He was just staring at his plate and picking at his food. Sansa wanted his eyes to wonder up, to meet hers, even for just a second - but they never did. That was a good thing though, she told herself over and over. She shouldn't want him to notice her anyway. She should want Joffrey to notice her. That aim, she found was being accomplished. Now his conversation with his uncle was apparently over, and Jamie was talking to the Queen, Joffery had begun to stare at Sansa intently, his sly, cocky smirk on his lips. She found herself turning red under his gaze, meeting his eyes for a second and then quickly look away. A lady didn't stare for too long.

She wondered if he was going to talk to her at all, but he just continued to stare. Well, until Sansa felt a cold hand stroke her thigh underneath the table. She let out a startled gasp, and everyone turned to look at her, making her turn even redder. The hand quickly disappeared. She glanced next to her to see Joffrey giving he a look that clearly said: 'Don't tell.'

"Are you all right dear?" asked her mother, elongating her neck to look at her daughter.

"I'm fine." Mumbled Sansa. Everyone quickly returned to what they had been doing. Except for Theon. He was looking right at her, staring into her eyes for the first time since last night.

After breakfast, everyone scattered, going their separate ways. Theon almost ran out of the hall, making Sansa feel slightly hurt. Was he that desperate to get away from her? Jon, however, lingered behind.

"Sansa," he said grabbing her arm before she could get away.

"Yes?" she asked nervously. She was worried that he was going to have a go at her for her actions of the the previous night, but instead he said: "Sorry about missing training this morning." It took Sansa a moment or two to realise what he was talking about, until she remembered that she was due to train every morning.

"It's okay." She said with a small smile. "I forgot to."

Jon smiled back at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he did so. "I don't blame you after last night." Sansa let out an inward groan. She knew that last night would somehow come up. She tried to move away from her half-brother, but he pulled her back.

"Hey, Sansa! I'm not going to have a go at you. Robb's done enough of that already." She didn't find that joke funny. "I just wanted to make sure that you are alright." His eyes wondered to look at the cut running along her neck that Arya had given her the night before. It hurt him when any of his siblings were hurt.

"I'm fine, Jon." She said maybe a bit too harshly. She then pulled her arm out of his grip. "And I don't need pit, especially from _you._" The moment the words left her lips she regretted them. Sure, she had said much worse things to him in the past, but now was different. She should know better. Jon's face had turned stony. Sansa could tell she had hurt him, which made her feel even more horrible. With one last pained look at his sister, Jon walked away. It was what he always did whenever Sansa had insulted him in the past. The only difference now was, she was hurting him to defend herself. Not just for the sake of being mean. But that was still not a good enough reason for being so rude. At least, that's what Sansa thought. She watched him walk away, and willed her mouth to open and apologize, but it wouldn't. It stayed tightly shut until he was out of view. With no other reason to hang around, she decided to go find Joffrey. Sure, she had been surprised when his hand had crept up her leg, but she did not mind. After all, it wasn't inappropriate...was it? They were to be husband and wife one day; a small leg touch was nothing in the long run.

Sansa found Joffrey in the gardens. He was talking to his uncle Jamie, who had his sword out, showing the boy some tricks. The two men stopped talking as she approached. Sansa noticed the remarkable resemblance between them as she drew closer. They had the same eyes, the same hair colour, and even the same shaped nose. In fact, if Joffrey did not have the last name of Baratheon you would not know he was one. He had not a single trait from his father's side...in character or appearance. Robert was bold, brutal and fair, whereas Joffrey was cunning, charming and ruthless.

"M'lady." said Jamie, bowing when Sansa reached them. Sansa giggled and curtsied back.

"Hello my lord." He gave her dazzling smile, and then turned to his nephew.

"Joffrey, I will leave you with this lovely lady. I have business in the castle. Good day." He bowed his head to both of them and began walking towards the castle, putting his sword back in its sheath as he did so. The young pair watched until he was out of sight. Once he was, Sansa turned to Joffrey, an excited smile on her face.

She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, Joffrey slapped her, hard around the face.


End file.
